Finding the Answers

I see God in the distance. And then when I come close, he disappears. Like a cycle this happens, time and time again. I'm aggravated now, trying to figure how to justify my cause. Finding God just isn't easy. He's elusive and intangible and somehow not functioning on all cylinders. Or maybe I'm not functioning on all cylinders. Maybe, both of us are missing a little. We certainly miss each other. I search and search, often coming close. And then when I come close, he disappears. Poof, like a magic show with smoke and mirrors and the works. Somehow, I keep searching. I keep wondering. When am I going to find the answers that I'm looking for?

Toxins

As human beings, we inhale toxins throughout our life. Just walking the streets and breathing. I'm not talking about smog and dirty air. I'm talking of the friction in our world, which matures us and steers us toward our personal horizon. We continue walking the streets, anyway. Do we have a choice? We are given a period of grace in this world. We walk the streets. We have limited time. We live in a world that creates toxicity. At some point we need to cleanse ourselves. 

Glue

I try and do the absolute best that I possibly can. Doesn't this define my identity? I search for some sort of external dimension. I have walked up and down New York City searching for presence. All the while that presence lay within my body. Layered somehow between my flesh and bone. I guess you could call it "glue." Glue for the soul. Glue for the mind, for everything that holds together who I am. Perhaps, I don't distinguish myself at all. Maybe my "glue," only lasts a certain amount of time. It melts away, while I disintegrate from within. 

The Absolute Very Best that I Can

I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. Pity has possessed me. It digs into my bones, my inner core. It pulls out every little tendency that reflects poor choice. Pity beats a man into submission. Twists his soul like a vicious tornado. God doesn't feel sorry for me. He only expects better. He expects fulfillment of potential. He demands that I do the absolute very best that I possibly can. 

I Count My Blessings

I count my blessings. I ramble on and on about not finding God. But what does it all mean? If I think I have found God, I have. Haven't I? If not, well, I stumble through life tripping over myself. And I do trip over myself, that's for sure. There have been many years when I just didn't do very much right. Where I collapsed in crises, never anything but a victim. But not every year. Many years I held my own. I stood for my potential, for all the gifts that I possess. I count my blessings, because life could be far worse.